


Distorted

by crankyvamp



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Illness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Rape, Past Relationships, past assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyvamp/pseuds/crankyvamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(I hate summaries) Gerard is a art student who struggles with mental illness and depression, which his history and past relationship is too blain. His life is a bore, until Frank comes along.<br/>Basically Gerard is sick yet Frank wants the dick<br/>IT SOUND BASIC BUT ITLL GET FUNKY</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gerard's ass is hot and that boy is hot

**Author's Note:**

> I would love feedback; this is my first frerard  
> this is my child be nice  
> -  
> Also pls read guilt tripping that fic makes me cry and I love it this is directed to hateful hiba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is my child

Why must the ground be so hot? This grass is b(ern)uring my damn ass, I'll tell you that much. It's also August, warm and sunny. I figured some sort of radiation shit is burning the ground. 

"Oh shut the hell up, you're over exaggerating but when the hell aren't you?" He scolds. 

I still don't understand how he hears my thoughts, maybe he's some pesky critter who crawls into my ear, or maybe I'm insane-in the membrane-like my mother thinks. The doctors say I'm just sick, and there's other people like me, and that I'm special. 

"He's looking at you." he informs me, I jerk up, oh fuck yes, the beautiful boy I noticed earlier, and might have been staring at, was looking in my direction. Oh god please don't let this be another figment of my imagination, please tell me that /he/ didn't do this. The boy smiles at me, and points at the spot next to me, raising his eyebrow as if he's asking a question. I pat the ground, gesturing for him to-please-come over. He greedily shakes his head, in delight I assume, and smiling. Before I know it, he's near me.

"Hello!"

Oh my god this beautiful boy is talking to I, the mighty trash lord.

"Hi," my voice is so soft, but I didn't tremble!

"You've been looking at me for the past hour." How and when did he notice?

"Well obviously you've been looking at me too, since you noticed..." I can be sassy. It's truly great. Am I great? Probably not.

He giggled, ACTUALLY FUCKING GIGGLED, like a toddler! 

"How hilarious." 

He had to of been sarcastic, I just raise a brow to him, what's his name? I bet it's unique and sexy.

"Who are you?" I burst.

"I'm Frank, Frank Iero."

Frank I-what? Bitch who? I don't know him. I was expecting a fucking Alejandro or some shit. Not a old father name like Frank. Frank's not old though, he's young and cute. But he could be a daddy. If you catch my drift.

"Who are you?" Why does he care? 

"Gerard Way - I prefer to be called Gee though,"

He smiles, adorable, 

"Nice to meet you....Gee." As he says this, he reaches his arm out to m- HOLY SHIT IM CUMMING IN MY PANTS. Am I a teenage boy again? Tattoos, so many. As I focused on his gorgeous ink, his hand enfolds to mine. Fuck. 

"I love your tattoos," Word vomit.

Frank chuckles-AGAIN. He then rolls his sleeve up more, "I'm littered."

"I can tell." I can't fucking help myself, I reach out and caress one of his works. I don't know what it is, appears to be religious. He also has many little stars climbing up his arm, including a chainsaw, wrapping around his upper arm almost like those tacky tribal tattoos frat boys-and Pam Anderson-have. Does she even still have it? But the more important question is 'Does Frank have more tattoos? Under his pants? On his chest? On his dick? And what the fuck is on his knuckles?!?' 

"So beautiful," I whisper, grazing one of his portrait tattoos, Frank never stops smiling. 

"Thank you, do you have any?" I gaze up at him-and finally take in face-completely. 

His eyes are capturing yet friendly, they're a misty greenish brown colour, they seem to change depending on the warmness of the light. His brows are so fucking symmetrical, it's making me mad. They're rounded yet arched, and somewhat remind me of sperms. No offence Frank. I realise I left him hanging on his question, I didn't answer his previous question, shit, I could hardly remember it. It's his fault honestly, he's too damn pretty. 

"No,no,no, no tattoos on me. Not on this porcelain skin, no penetrating needles. Makes me shit myself."

"Really? I pinned you as the type of person to have some, especially with that Iron Maiden shirt."

"No Bueno, I'm too pure." I lift up my sleeves to show off my bare icy white skin to him. "I wish I could but fucking needl-"  
Fuck. He's right behind Frank. 

"Stop flirting with Frankie boy. Sweetheart.." I shake my head, wanting him to leave-permanently. Now Frank is staring at me, confused.

"Gee?"

"I-I'm sorry," I gulp, "I got distracted," Nice save, loser. I attempt to make myself smile. Can he stop fucking looking at me? Please let me talk to Frank, I don't want you here. Please let me get close to someone, for once in a lifetime. Please.  
Frank can't stop smiling at me, I feel hunted, but in a good way, I know Frank wouldn't shoot me with a gun and take a picture with my carcass while dressed in all camo. I know Frank wouldn't hurt me. I bet he'd cuddle me if I asked, I know he wouldn't fuck me on the first date, but fuck it'd be hot. Gerard, stop imaging Franks cock buried inside you. Is he even gay? Bi? Pan?

"What are you doing here, Gee?"

"Drawing, reading, relaxing. It's the park." 

Frank kneels down, taking the spot next to me. 

"Fuck!"  
"How are you sitting on this?!? This ground is like fuckin' molten lava." 

I chuckle this time, that's what I've been saying! Fuckin radioactive radiation shit I swear.

"You get used to it,"

I watch him take a seat next to Frank-go away!-tugging on his hair, threatening to beat him to pulp, and that he should see the things he's done to me & won't hesitate to do to Frank.  
But Frank doesn't know, of course he doesn't fucking know, he's dead, and I only I the mental freak with all of his fucking brain compartments fucked up can see him! Why me? Why the fuck am I seeing him since his death? How did I use to /love/ him? Oh my fucking god, I'm bursting into tears again, they're flowing into my mouth like always, it's like I'm tasting the ocean.

When will Bert fuck off already?!?!?


	2. Dont Ruin It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gee & frankie chat, Gerard cries, frank is a baby boy who comforts him. 
> 
> Frank catches those digits and gerard wants Bert to die-again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update on day 1 :') I think this is a tad longer; also, would you guys like images of what the characters look like?  
> yes Bert is in this but he ded  
> gerard hallucinates him  
> they used to date before Bert died  
> You'll find out more later  
> xoxo stay confused

I don't know how long I cried. I don't know how long I stayed curled into a ball with salty tears running down my face and drying on my jaw and neck. But I do remember Frank, and that he cursed under his breath and was quick to drape a arm over me. I didn't listen to his words, so I can't tell you what he said, but I can tell you what Bert snickered.

  He stood infront of Frank and I, I never looked up at him but I know his presence well enough. He kept yapping at Frank to get his filthy hands off me, and that I need to grow up, and shut the fuck up. He kept calling me a whiny brat, which I guess I was. This is his fault, I want him to go away, I want him to vanish I want him to get out my life like he should've been a long time ago. He's fucking dead, DEAD, but my goddamn mind keeps seeing him, he's just a hallucination, not even a ghost, the doctors with white scrubs have proved this. You know, dead Bert is just as horrible as alive, breathing Bert was. The emotional abuse is strong. I hate thinking about Bert, I force myself to focus on Frankie Boy instead. I'm still crying, and I don't want to explain to him why. We just met! I can't be that over personal twat everyone hates. I don't want to unload myself on Frank.

 I pick my head up, looking at Frank, and he meets my gaze. He looks confused yet sad, and caring. He rubs the spot between my shoulder blades in comfort, and starts to open his mouth to speak.

"What's wrong?" Fuck. I can't tell him. He'd think I'm crazy, if he doesn't already.

"I-i can't tell you. You wouldn't get it, please forget it." That rhymed.

 Frank pulled me into a hug, a real hug, my face in his neck, covering his shoulder with my tears. Why am I hugging a goddamned stranger? Whatever, it's nice, and comfortable. I hope Bert is mad.

 Oh, and Frank smells bomb. I find myself folding into him, wrapping my arms around his back and probably squeezing too hard. Atleast my tears have stopped.

 "Maybe if we become closer, I'll tell you." I mumble into his neck.

 Frank just hums as a response, and I can feel that damn smirk, I also don't feel Berts eyes burning the back of head, for once. Frank starts to pull apart, and I let him. I'm probably being such a burden.

"You okay?" He's fucking smiling

"Now I am, thank you."

"It's getting late, do you have a way home?"

What the fuck? The sun is already setting? Whatever, it is autumn, it makes sense.

"I, uh, actually don't. I walked here from my college. It's also getting colder and I really don't wanna walk home.." Please take me home.

"College? Let me guess, for art?"

How the fuck did he know?

"Yes, I'm on my last year."

"Fucking rad dude, I didn't go to college. I'm in a band and I work at a shitty IHop."

"Hey, I don't discriminate. I love music and I love IHop. Makes me get fat as fuck but god damn it's good."

Frank laughs at me, full on laughs, and I still can't believe he got over me being a crybaby emo a while ago.

"It is good, but hey, you are not fat Gee, don't say that."

"Okay, I'm curvy then." I chuckle at myself.

"That's more accurate."

He FUCKING WINKED. I'm probably blushing-oh senpai.

"What's your bands name, Frank?"

"Pencey Prep,"

What!?!?!

"No fucking way dude! I heard your guys shit! I didn't know you were apart of that!"

Franks face lit up,

"Thank you...I'm lead and a guitarist."

Oh god, so now Frank is not only hot but also talented. "You're so good, don't give up, you're fucking amazing and deserve more credit."

"Thank you Gee, now can we leave?"

I nod, standing up and brushing my jeans and bum as he does the same.

"You drive?" I ask

"Yes, come on, it's right here. Get in the passenger, and sorry if my car is a wreck."

He opens the grey car door for me, and I climb in as he does the same for himself. Franks car may be a tad messy. I won't lie.

"Tunes?"

"Duh," he answers, starting the engine and turning a nob, letting Black Flag spew into the car and into our ears.

"Fuck yah! Holy shit what station is this?"

"Not a station-CD."

"Oh, how modern of you."

"Shut up Gee."

He giggles, I swear all he does is giggle, his language is giggle. I give Frank my apartment address, and we chat the whole ride there. He talk about music, horror movies, and what brand of skinny jeans sucked the most.

"I hate Aeropostale,"

How dare he.

"Pardon me! I'm wearing Aeropostale jeans right now! I think they make my ass look great!"

I lift my self up a tad, and pull my pants down a bit so the 'Aero' tag is shown, oh and you can also see my light blue boxers. Frank fucking blushed, I swear he did. He's so adorable.

"Ok, you look great in their jeans, but I don't."

"Frank! Don't say that! I bet you'd be just as attractive."

SHUT THE FUCK UP! Why did I say that? oh well, honesty is the best policy.

"Thank you,Gee."

Oh yeah, he's still blushing, maybe he likes me too, or maybe I'm delirious. I spy Bert sitting in the back of Frank's car, on top of his jacket and guitar case.

"Gerard, stop it." he growls.

I shake my head at him. I like Frank. Frank catches me shaking my head to his backseat, he doesn't know what I'm seeing.

"Gee?"

I turn my attention from Bert, and look up at Frank, his eyes looking at mine.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? We're at your house." Oh, we are.

"Thank you," I say as I open the car door and step one foot out, "I had a lot of fun with you today, Frankie."

I just called him Frankie outloud.

"It was nice to be happy for once, and have the joy come from a human, not from paper and paints."

Frank smiled ear to ear, "I had fun too. Can I have your number?"

Thank God he asked first, I didn't want to.

"Yes! Of course!" I spew out my number and he quickly places it in his phone, he better have made my contact 'Gee <3'

"Bye Frank!"

I jump out the car, shut my door, and wave at him, I really like him. I don't care if we just met. He's the first one to show interest. I catch him smile at me before he pulls out of the driveway and leaves. I like to think that we just had a first date in a way. I want to see him again, He truly makes me _happy_.

 -------

 I trudge up the stairs and to my little apartment, opening the door only to find Bert sitting on my leather sofa.

"Stop hanging out with him, right this instant. Especially stop the flirting."

Not real. he's not real. He's dead. Gerard, take your pills.

"I don't have to listen to you, Bert, you're not real. I really like Frank."

"You just met the damn boy!"

He shoves his hand into my rats nest of a hair-do and clenches his fist, shoving my head back. It fucking hurt. He's not real but yet this pain was so real. Why is he so vivid? Why am I cursed with such a horrid illness?

"I felt the same when I first met you, I didn't hear you complaining then."

He shoves my head onto the marbled counter-fuck that fucking hurt; holy shit.

I reach over and grab my bottle of Chlorpromazine, taking two of them. I instantly start to feel better.

 I ignore Bert- _not real, not real, not real_ \- and I wander to the sofa, instantly laying down. I let my medicine wash over me, calming me and I watch Bert vanish, sadly it's only temporary. I find myself passing out, when I wake up I feel lucid, thankfully my pills haven't worn out yet. I stretch and moan like some porn star.

 Oh, and my cock is hard. Let's just say I woke up from my nap, found my hand on my dick, and a certain someone with hazel eyes on my mind. And then I might've had a violent orgasm and then passed the fuck out. Again.


	3. Who is Bert McCracken?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> longer chap-4k words. some warnings: drug & alcohol abuse, smut, violence, & rape/sexual assault  
> this chapter is mostly about Bert & Gerards past relationship

 I remember the day Bert died like it happened just a day ago, maybe even a few minutes ago.  
It was spring, April 29th, on a Friday. We were together, were we happy? No. But we used to be, for the first year or so. We've been together for about 2 years now-let me think, I was 20 and Bert was 23-so maybe 3 years, seeing that we started dating when I was a senior in high school and Bert was the college student that helped my music teacher and watched us, he used to wanna become a teacher. He was graduating college and everything. We were both greasy young guys that smelled and wore clothes that tended to be ripped more often then not. I remember one day he wore jeans to school that had a huge gash on his thigh, and I was staring at his peaking boxers all class.  
  
 In high school, I was depressed and suicidal at points. I smoked cigarettes when I couldn't handle the stress, and fuck do I love nicotine. I had no friends, besides my little brother but he was only a freshman, him being 14 whining about how 'he's almost 15,mom!'. I had good grades, a A in art and music, and B and maybe one C in the rest-those being the typical English, math, science, history, and the dreaded PE class.  
  
 When Bert first came to our class, I was instantly attracted to him, he reminded me of myself and that excited me. I was also happy that I wouldn't be the only smelly greasy kid in the class-possibly school. I knew I was attracted to boys, I even had a boyfriend before Bert came along, his name was Gabe. He was cute and a decent fuck, code word decent. I don't know why he or anyone else would be attracted to me back then, I was chunky; I mean I still am, but no where as bad. As Frank and I agreed, I'm curvy.  
  
Bert liked me to too, I was mainly the only one in the class he would talk too, maybe even more then the teacher. Once Mr.Shield, my music teacher, scolded us for laughing and communicating while he was lecturing on how to play a EM and AM chord on guitar. Maybe we were a distraction, but I didn't care, I wasn't a guitar player. Frank is, I know that now!  
  
Bert stayed overlooking our class for a whole semester, and let's just say we weren't just friends that whole 18 weeks. We had our first kiss in the closet where Mr.Shield kept the bass instruments. I thought Bert would freak out and snitch on me, but he didn't. When I pulled away he pulled me right back and his tongue was down my throat. It was kind of gross, but he only got grosser, but I didn't know this at the time.  
We only progressed from there on, he asked me out on a date a few days after our-slimey-kiss. I felt like shitting my pants when he proposed the question. I of course said yes and I might of squealed, I still couldn't believe my crush liked me back. I also can't believe he never freaked out about me being only 17 and him 20.  
He took me out to see a movie, I think it was some Spider-Man movie. We had a really good time, and I found myself going home with him. I still don't know to this day if I regret it or not.

  
 When we got to his apartment, I took a seat on his sofa as he ventured into the kitchen.  
  
"Would you like a drink, Gerard?"

 He didn't know about my preference for being called Gee yet, I didn't want to be called Gee until he left this planet earth, anyway. You'll find out why later.

"What do you have?" I found myself asking.

"Uh...cans of beer, two different types, a old wine bottle and just some water bottles."

"I'll try beer,"

 I really should've have picked water. I wanted to try the alcohol because everyone else drank it, but I never have. I had no recourses, my parents didn't drink, and I'm only 17.  
Bert plopped next to me on the sofa, handing me a can of Miller Lite as he held the second one, his own.  
  
"I've actually never had this,"

"Oh yeah? I'm glad I get to take your Miller Lite virginity,"

"Is it any good?"

"It's bitter, puts the B In 'beer'."

 I thought that it would be gross, but I found myself popping open the can and taking a gulp of the liquid. And I liked it. I really liked it. I liked the saltiness that kind of burned me in a way.

"I like it," I told Bert. He just smiled, opening his own can and casually sipping there and now.

I didn't pin him as a alcoholic, but I was eventually proved wrong.  
  
 As we were in the middle of watching 'The Dawn of the Dead', Bert was finishing his seventh can and I was on my fourth, maybe fifth. I felt a tad woozy, and Bert was almost fucked up.

"I feel good," he randomly stated.

"I do too, I didn't think I'd like beer but this was pretty goo-"

 I was cut off by Bert's lips, no, mouth, on mine. It was all tongue and our teeth were clanking against each other. He held my face with force for a while until his hands slid down my body, landing on my hips and roughly pulling me onto his lap. I probably squealed, and when I started to pull away from him to breathe, he pulled me right back in like a fisherman would to a stubborn fish. He was still running his tongue over mine and biting on my lower lip and his hands still caressed my hips.  
  
 I didn't know how I felt, I don't remember, my mind was foggy and alcohol was taking its toll on the both of us. Bert shoved his hands into the back of my jeans, and under my boxers, kneading my- _impressive, I must say_ -ass. This shocked me, and I jumped up, but he was having none of it, groping me harder and yanking me back down, my crotch now shoving against his. He was fucking hard as a rock.  
  
 He was needy, maybe I was too, I do remember rocking against him, and me moaning and mewling as he finally stopped making out with me and started kissing my neck instead. Fuck, he left so many marks, I had bruises for almost a week.  
  
"You ever suck cock?" He wasn't even hesitant to ask,

But I was hesitant to answer, I kinda didn't want to suck him off. I wasn't that good, but I'm not gonna lie and say I didn't enjoy the last time I gave head. So I gave in,

"Yes,"

"Get on your knees,"

 I listened to his order and climbed off his lap, sliding down onto my knees. Fuck, the wooden floor was uncomfortable. I let out a grunt, tilting my head up and looking at him as he started to undo his jeans, pulling them down quick and then frantically yanking his boxers, which were grey, off. I didn't even get to notice how large he was because he was instantly grabbing the back of my head and pushing me forwards his leaking cock, shoving his length into my mouth. I am not going to lie, I gagged, and my eyes watered. Bert didn't stop, he rocked slowly into my mouth and whispered 'sh' multiple times, and knotted his hand into my hair.  
  
 Saliva was gathering at the corners of my mouth, and my eyes were watering. I was into it though, I ran my tongue against the vein under his cock and let him thrust wildly into my mouth.  
  
Profanities slurred from his mouth,  
"Fuck, Jesus Christ..F-fuck...how'd you learn that?"

 His hand that wasn't yanking my hair trailed to my pants, yanking them down along with my boxers until they were clinging to my thighs. His hand disappeared for a split second, but then came back down, and his spit soaked finger was lying against my asshole. He didn't even warn me before he shoved a digit in, I jerked, it was slightly painful. I don't remember the last time I or anyone else have played with my ass.

"Is that okay?" I was shocked he actually cared.

 I looked up at him, his cock still in my mouth, droll running down my chin and my eyes watering, and I nodded. He smiled and entered another finger into my ass, I squealed, sucking harder on his cock, not even on purpose. He enjoyed it though, drawing out a long moan and thrusting into my mouth again to the hilt and starting to move his fingers inside me. I found myself rocking against his fingers, wanting him to find and rub against my prostate, but I think he doesn't even know what it is.

 His thrusting became frantic, and he was cursing every second, his mouth hanging open as he drew out long moans. I thought he looked gorgeous like that, his mouth wide open, maybe as if he was asking for someone to shove their cock in there. I was too focused on his face that I didn't even realize he was cumming down my throat and I was gagging on the salty and sour liquid, his orgasm washed over him as the vein under his cock throbbed, his body trembled, and his knees weakened, as if my mouth was draining all the energy from his body. He drew out one long moan after he stopped spurting down my throat, and pulled out, his cock covered in my saliva and his own spunk. His fingers slowly left my body and his grip loosened on my hair.  
  
"You're fuckin' amazing..Gee" He panted.

 He ruffled my hair and got up and then walked to the bathroom, I heard him piss and then turn on the faucet, probably to wash his hands and clean his now filthy cock. I remained kneeled on the floor, my heart racing and my own dick was still hard, I can't believe he didn't make me finish. He came back into the room, handing a wad of paper towels to me, I was most likely a mess, cum and spit trailing out of my mouth and tears dried on my cheeks.

"You're beautiful like this."

"Aren't I always beautiful?"

 He giggled, I guess that was a yes, maybe?  
I cleaned his spunk and my spit off my face and wiped my tears, tossing the paper into a near by trash can. Bert was laying on the sofa, still softly panting, and his cock still out, he should really pull his boxers up at least.

 My cock was slowly going down, I still can't believe he didn't finish me off or stimulate my goddamn prostate! Whatever, I wasn't even in the mood anymore. I yanked my pants up and buttoned them, as Bert pulled his boxers up.

"Come here," Bert mumbled

 I walked over to sofa and plopped down next to him, only for him to wrap his arms around me and pull me to his chest, holding me close. I smiled, he was warm and comforting.

"You're amazing...."

 I could tell he was drifting off, so was I, it was past midnight. I snuggled against his chest as he played with my knotted hair, and we both fell asleep to the credits of 'Dawn of the Dead' playing in the background. And that's how my first night at Bert's played out.

\-----

Bert and I's relationship was pretty swell for the first year, soon after I graduated he asked for me to move in with him, and he said that he'd help me find a good college. I instantly accepted, I was barely 18, packing my stuff from home, and I was hugging my parents and little brother, Mikey, before I left to live with Bert. It really happened that fast, I loved Bert, I was head over heels for him. I ignored his bad side that got pissed drunk and did worse, but past me didn't know about this yet. Bert and I were truly happy and in a healthy relationship, until shit exploded.  
  
 In April, nearing our one year anniversary. Bert was being a huge asshole, he was bossing me around and complaining about how 'I was a indecisive bitch' and that I needed to shut the fuck up and pick one-a college-already. I explained to him how I wanted to go somewhere really good and somewhere I loved, I told him how stressed I was over the situation. He smirked at my comment, before telling me that he could fix that.  
  
"How?" I asked, genuinely curious, I hoped it wasn't sex. I wasn't in the mood.

"Come," he said, reaching out his hand and I took it.

 He led me to our bedroom, before walking to his side of the bed and opening his dresser, pulling out two white bottles and two small ziplock bags.

"Klonopin, Xanax, cocaine, and good ol' fashioned Mary Jane. Pick your poison, babe."

I was fucking shocked, but also not. He was already a alcoholic, if he's a drug addict as well, it'd explain his blown out eyes.

"I-i..."

I didn't know what to do, once wouldn't hurt me right?

"Can we try them all?"

 Bert smirked, keeping the four drugs in his hands and walking me out to the living room.

"If you want, babe. I popped a few Xanax this morning."

 And there I find out my boyfriend is a druggie. And I knew I was too scared to say no to him, and I knew I was going to become a druggie too. Little did I know this would be the downfall of our relationship.

\----

 It was around 11 PM, I snorted three lines of coke and took a few Xanax. Bert and I sat on the couch, he was smoking a blunt as I rested.  
  
Not gonna lie, I felt great, and I wanted more.

\----

 Two years in, Bert and I were officially drug addicts and alcoholics. I was in college, my happiness coming from art. I was only happy when I was painting and drawing. When I wasn't taking drugs, I was sitting in front of a canvas, getting lost in my strokes. Bert didn't make me happy anymore, Bert didn't care about me.

Bert hurt me.

 June 27th, 2 and 1/3 years of dating, and Bert raped me. We were unhealthy before the rape occurred. I stayed with him purely for the drugs, I was a struggling artist drowning in student debt. Bert payed it off by selling extra drugs.  
  
 Bert mostly emotionally amused me, he controlled where I went and who I talked to, he called me fat, ugly, a pig, a hog, a pathetic cunt, and that my work sucked dick. If he thought I was so filthy and disgusting, why'd he take advantage of me? Why'd he shove my face in the pillow and shove his cock inside me dry? Why'd he moan "you like that Gerard? you fucking whore, you love this Gerard." Why?  
  
 Bert has physically hurt me before the rape. I remember once I tried to cut ties and get clean, he was not happy. He shoved me to the floor, accusing me of cheating and being a whore. He punched my sides and slammed my nose, almost breaking it and causing it to bleed heavily. He beat me to a pulp, leaving me with a busted nose, bruised ribs, a black eye, and random bruises scattered on my body. He's also punched me at random times for the stupid shit, like me saying no or me disagreeing with him. I'd get slapped whenever I got a attitude.  
  
 The day Bert raped me, I was clean and he was high. I felt it all, I remember it all, I wish I was fucked up that day, maybe I wouldn't have remembered. I sort of predicted it, it was my fault really, I shouldn't have talked to that boy at the coffee shop-oh but he was so pretty! I haven't made a man smile in so long until I met him! His name was Geoff, we chatted about music mostly and how we were doing. I lied and said I was a great, I didn't tell him about Bert. I even got his number, but after Bert found out about him he searched through my phone and deleted his number from it.  
  
 Remembering Bert assaulting me still makes me uncomfortable, even now that he's dead. I can't imagine having sex with someone again-not even Frank, maybe a little though. He's cute can you blame me? Maybe he'll help me let go.

 Bert has sexually assaulted me several times after he raped me for the first time.

\-----

 Almost 3 years of so called dating. Bert was hurting me daily, and I was still fucked up on drugs. Cocaine was my favorite now. Bert did stronger drugs then I did usually, his favorite being meth. I was heavily depressed, and I think Bert was too.

 I wanted Bert out of my life, I wanted to be clean, I wanted to forget the memory of his filthy hands running up my body, taunting my extra weight, and forcing me to strip for him. I wanted to meet someone new. I wanted to forget and the drugs only helped temporarily.

 At this time, my mental state was worsening, I started to hallucinate even when I had no drugs in my system. I heard things, but it was worse then the ones I got from depression and stress, these ones were sad and wanted me to kill myself or others. They told me to do drugs, to ruin myself. My hallucinations got more vivid, I was terrified, I hallucinated Mikey once, he was crying and telling me to stop.

 Mikey never liked Bert, he'd constantly message me to get help, and that I can come home, and that he won't tell. He knew I was on drugs and he wanted to help. He wanted me safe and away from Bert. We unfortunately lost connect since Bert broke my phone on purpose, because he's a rude cunt and thought I'd seek help on there and cheat on him.  
  
 During this year, I was weak in college. I found myself not going to classes, and stuck in bed, doubting everything and crying. On April 29th, a few days after our three year anniversary. I came home from school, a rare day that I decided I finally would attend my classes, and found Bert passed out on our sofa. God was that sofa disgusting. I walked over to him, thinking he just fell asleep, but something was off. He was very still and loose, no snoring like he usually does. His needle, pills, and meth sat on the desk. He had cocaine lines yet to be snorted and he was missing a shit ton of meth, he just bought some yesterday, there shouldn't be that much gone already. I looked back at him, his eyes were open and bloodshot.  
  
I started to click things together. I checked for a pulse, none. My thoughts were wild, it was just _fuckfuckfuckfuck_. Bert is **dead**.

 I grabbed the phone, instantly dialing 911, yelling at the receiver that my friend overdosed and is dead. I didn't want to call him my boyfriend, he's not even my friend, he was basically my drug dealer who used me. I was crying honestly, it hurt me bad, I was sad at what Bert had became. He was going to go places, he was going to become a teacher, but he got caught up with drugs and alcohol and it ruled his entire life, eventually killing him. I sobbed, gross snot running out of my nose and my face covered with salty tears. I cried a lot then and I cried a lot now. I blamed myself, just how he taught me to do. He burned it in my brain that it's always my fault. I could've helped Bert, I should've never took those drugs when he first showed me them. I should've gotten rid of them, and talk to Bert deeply. I should've gotten him-us-help. But now I know that now that he's gone, I need to fix myself.  
  
 My crying softened as the ambulance and police arrived. Emergency workers carried Bert's body out on a stretcher, and police came for the drugs. I gave them everything in the house, including my stash. My beloved Xanax and cocaine.

\-----

 I didn't go to the hospital to see Bert. While he was gone, dead actually, I used his phone. I called my Mama, and Mikey. I think you know what I told them.  
  
 The hospital ended up reaching out to me, explaining to me that Bert's death was ruled as a overdose with meth, he had a heart attack and kidney failure. The doctors think that his overdose may have been suicide. I believe it still to this day. Hallucination Bert tells me everyday that's it my fault.

I didn't go to his funeral.

\-----

"Mr.Way, are you involved with drugs as well?"

Out of all questions the deputy asked, this is the one I remember the most. I could've lied, but I didn't. I was honest.

"Yes. I'm in horrible shape. He started this mess. He made me. Please, I want help."

They could put me in rehab, I don't care. Arrest me, I don't care.

All the deputies did was nod, I knew they'd get me help.

\----

 I did get help, I went to rehab for a month and I got clean. I felt so...bland once I got out though. I felt sick. I am sick. At this point, I started seeing Bert as a hallucination. He made me cry every night during recovery, he is just as mean as alive Bert was.

 I asked for a doctor, I didn't forget about my hallucinations and voices.  
They didn't judge me, they helped me. They didn't diagnose me as a schizophrenic or anything, saying they don't know 100% what's wrong. They don't 100% know if the drugs caused it. They still don't know to this day. They call me special, and reassure me that I'll get better, and that I'm not the only one. They also make sure I remind myself that: **Bert Is Not Real.**

They let me call my Mama, and she was so rude.

"Hi mama,"

"Gerard?" She never calls me by my real name.

"Yes mama, it's me, please call me Gee."  
  
 I prefer to be called Gee because Bert called me Gerard, he always said it so angry. Whenever he raped me, he moaned it. I hate my name, Gerard, I wanna be called Gee forever.

"No, Gerard, I can't believe you were on fucking drugs! And you let your boyfriend die!"

"No Mama! Bert made me take drugs! And you know he treated me badly, him dying isn't my fault mama!"

"Shut up. Also, the doctors told me about how insane you are."

Insane. I hate that word. I'm not insane, I'm sick, ill, and special.

"Mama, no."

"Yes, Gerard, you need help. I don't want you talking to me. I could be a negative impact. I know you aren't happy with being insane either."

"I'm not insan-"

She hung up.

\-----

 I ponder my fucked history as I lay in bed in my tiny apartment, all alone. Two years since Bert's death and of me being clean. Luckily, hallucination Bert isn't around. I feel calm, and I didn't freak out while thinking about how Bert raped me.  
  
 My mind rolls to Frank, though I just met him, I think he'll greatly help me. His simple comfort hug he gave me yesterday was like God's Touch. I don't care if we just met. I lean over and snag my phone, unlocking it and seeing that a random number texted me.

 **From** : (Unknown)  
_Hey G, it's Frank  
Hopefully I have the right number. :/_

Frank messaged me! I make a contact for him, making his name 'Frankie Boy'. I'll probably add a heart sooner or later. I then quickly respond.

 **To:** Frankie Boy   
_Hi Frankie!!! I know it's late but I was just having rambling thoughts and didn't notice you texted me. I know we just met but I think you're really....uh..swell? You calm me. xo_

Yes, I put hugs and kisses.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do I write Smut lord


	4. Someday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is probably what the youngsters call "fluff"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late but I wanted to pop this out for my few readers :')  
> I didn't look over this too well so if you see any mistakes please tell me. ALSO I REALLY WANT FEEDBACK ://// 
> 
> I also made a tweet portraying how Gee and Frank look in this story! :)  
> check it out here: https://twitter.com/biacuia/status/708515297037324288

  
 Frank asked me to come to his concert this Friday.

 I happily agreed. I couldn't wait to see him again, and to meet the band that I've been listening to more often then not. Frank told me he'd pick me up at 12 PM on Friday, since I offered to help set up and he offered for me to meet the band.  
  
 Today was Wednesday, 1 o'clock, I was still laying in bed, after all I had no classes today. I didn't get any sleep last night. After I sent my text to Frank, I just laid in bed all night, thinking about all the fucked up shit I constantly find myself pondering about. My mind also drifted to Frank, joyful & cute Frank. Did I mention how happy he makes me? Because he does. All I hope for is for Frank's life to bring happiness, and to endure any pain. I hope that me being close to him won't scruff him up and make him foul.

 I finally crawled out of bed, stretching and mewling as my arms and legs feel like jello. I yawned loudly, stumbling out of my room and into the kitchen, rushing to the Keurig, fuckin' fancy ass coffee machines. As I waited for the water to heat up and to hear the pour of my steaming coffee landing in my mug, I reread Frank and I's messages.

 **To** : Frankie Boy  
_Hi Frankie!!! I know it's late but I was just having rambling thoughts and didn't notice you texted me. I know we just met but I think you're really....uh..swell? You calm me. xo_

 _ **From**_ : Frankie Boy  
_I think you're swell too, Gee. x_

 **From** : Frankie Boy  
_Hey, when do you wanna hang out again?_

 **To** : Frankie Boy  
_soon! When, where, why, what, who???!?!??_

 **From** : Frankie Boy  
_Since you like our music, wanna come see my band on Wednesday at 6? I could pick you up at around noon, you can meet the band and we can chat. x_

 **To** : Frankie Boy  
_ONGGGHUJIIWOWLCYCUSJA!!! Yes! Would I have to pay? Could I help set up too?_

 **From** : Frankie Boy  
_No, of course not G. It'll be free, you'll be with the band and I'll even pay for any drinks, if you want any_

I shivered as he mentioned drinks.

 **To** : Frankie Boy  
_Ok :) x_

 I stopped reading our messages and put my phone down as I watched the steady stream of coffee pour into my mug. Once it's filled to the rim, I take a seat on my sofa, rubbing my head with one hand and holding my sweltering coffee cup in the other, taking sips then and now.

 Something didn't feel right. I couldn't pin it at first, but now I'm ashamed I didn't figure it out quickly.

 Bert isn't around. He isn't invading my thoughts and pushing me around.

 I grin, now holding my mug in both of my hands and taking larger sips until my coffee runs out, I toss it on the sofa then go back to kitchen. I grab two of my pill bottles, Chlorpromazine and Zoloft, quickly swallowing one of each quickly. I sigh and wander back to the sofa, today will be a lazy day.

 I ended up passing out on my sofa. It's comfy, what else do you expect? I wake up, the room completely dark besides the starlight is peaking through my window. Yanking my phone from the counter, I check the time, also noticing missed calls and messages. I rub my eyes, noticing they're all from Frank and ones from Ms.Kinney, one of my professors. Hers is not a big deal, she just sent a message to all of the students, reminding them all that the abstract project is due this Sunday at 5 PM precise.  
Franks messages were a big deal to me. He even called me!

3 PM:  
**From** : Frankie Boy  
_I'm so excited for Friday. :))))_

5PM:  
**From** : Frankie Boy  
_You busy? :/ You're usually so quick to respond._

8PM:  
**From** : Frankie Boy  
_Geeeeeee I know you're not busy, you said you had a free lazy day bc no college_

( _Missed Call From: Frankie Boy  
New Voicemail From: Frankie Boy_ )

A voicemail? How worried is he? I quickly pressed play.

_'Hey Gee, I know I'm probably over exaggerating right now but I'm worried about you, you typically respond so quick. I-i just get worried when someone is slow to respond, I feel like I did something wrong o-or something's wrong with them, t-there's there's been issu- Never mind. I'm not going to ramble into my personal issues over a stupid voicemail. I'm so stupid, please contact me soon Gee.'_

 My heart swelled, I left Frank worried. It's only 11 PM now, I wonder if he's awake.

 I decide to call him back, letting him now I'm fine and took a elongated nap.  
I impatiently waited for the rings to end, and to hear Franks voice on the other line, and I got my wish.

"Gee?" He sounded tired.

"Hi Frankie,"

"Oh thank God, you okay?"

I giggled slightly, "Yes, I'm fine. I'm so sorry I worried you, I just took a really, really long nap."

"Are you okay, Frankie?"

"I'm fine now, I've kinda been worrying. I'm so stupid, I know I overreacted I just have..a history, you know?"

I nod, even though he can't see me.  
"I know Frankie, I have a rough history too.."

 Speaking of which, where's Bert today? Maybe he's lurking in my brain.  
  
"Something to do with your sobbing on Tuesday?"  
  
I sighed, "Yes, I swear I'll explain everything when we get closer and I trust you more."

"I promise I'll tell you about my past and current events too, Gee."

"So we can both wait, Frankie?"

"Yes....and I like when you call me that."

He giggled.

"What? Frankie?"

"Yeah! It's cute and no one calls me that, I'm just tiny but rough Frank."

"Like a hot dog...Get it, a frank."

He laughed into the mic.

"Never heard that one before!"

"Hey! I tried, ok?"

"You're adorable..." he mumbled.

I hummed as a response,  
"I can't wait for Friday."

"Me either, I hope you enjoy our jams."

"Really? Jams? Yall gonna be having strawberry or grape?"

Frank bursted into laughter again,  
"Oh my fuckin'...Gee, I'm wheezing."

"I can tell!"

"S-shut up," He gasped out, still chuckling softly.

"Fuck, that was a stupid good one Gee, God we're so childish."

"Who cares! We're having fun!"

"You're amazing."

"You too Frankie."

"I'm _so_ bored." He groaned into the mic, I feel him

"Me, fucking, too."

"We should meet up,"

"Frank, it's almost midnight!"

"So? I'll come over to yours if you want, I remember it. We can have a movie marathon and get fat together."

"Ok."  
  
\-----

 Frank actually did come over like he promised he would. We found ourselves huddled on my couch, blankets covering us, pillows thrown around, food covering the table, wrappers and crumbs on the floor, and a movie playing on my television. I don't know what the title of it was, but the previous movies we watched were various Friday the 13th films. Frank and I honestly didn't give the movies our 100% attention, we had a lot of conversations while the movies played in the background.  
  
 I found out that Frank thought Leonardo DiCaprio was the cutest make actor. I disagreed.

"Nuh uh. I like Johnny Depp, yes I know I'm being basic, but you are too!"

"Well, Johnny is more hot then cute."

"Well, Leo isn't cute."

Frank did a overly dramatic gasp, placing his hand over his heart to add to the effect.

"Take that back!" He scolded, playfully swatting my arm.

I giggled, swatting him back.

"Nope! Leo isn't cute!"

Frank then had a word vomit, I think,

"He's not cuter then you."  
  
I looked up at him, and smiled. A real smile, a tad awkward, but not forced.  
  
"Thank you. Johnny Depp isn't cuter then you, either."

 Now we're both smiling at each other, before Frank opens his mouth again, rambling about some irrelevant event.

"You know, what the actual fuck is going on with frozen pizzas? How the hell did glass end up in there?"

 I roll my eyes at him, still smiling, letting him ramble about his frozen pizzas and budding in then and now.

 I was soon becoming woozy, yawning every few minutes or so, eventually curling up beside Frank, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Is this ok?"

 He nodded, reaching for the remote, pressing down the red button, causing the film to pause and my tv to shut down. Frank draped his arm around me, pulling me close to him, and I move my head because frankly, his shoulder was getting uncomfortable. I decided to rest against his chest, somewhat snuggling him. The good thing is that it wasn't awkward and it felt natural. Plus, Bert wasn't around. Today was fucking great.

 I started to doze off, snuggling further into Franks chest, and his arm squeezing tighter around me. The blankets were not even halfway on our bodies, so I depended on getting my warmth from Franks body.

"G'night Frankie...."

 While I was cuddled up to him, I eventually passed out, in the middle of the night, with Frank, happy.

\-----

 When I woke up, it was surprisingly early. I expected myself to wake up late, seeing how Frank kept me up until about 3-4 AM. I sit up on the couch, clusters of blankets swallowing me. The food is still on the counter, the floors still gross, but something's missing. I turn to my side, Frank isn't there. Maybe he got up early and left? No, he surely wouldn't do that to me, right? He cares about me. He'd at least leave a note or a text.  
  
"Good morning!"  
 A obnoxiously, obviously acted, voice yells, yanking the curtains over and letting the bright, blinding sunshine drown into my apartment. I know this is Frank. Little fuck.

 I shield my eyes from the rays of sun with my hand, squinting towards Frank's direction.

"Frankie! Shut the curtains!"

"Not until you get up!!"  
  
Aggravated, I stand up, scowling at him.

"Good morning sunshine, I made you coffee, just simple caramel. Figured you must drink it a lot considering the array of disposed cups near your coffee machine."  
  
 I grin from ear to ear, I can't believe he made me coffee, see, I know he cares. I carefully take the still warm mug from his hand and take a few sips, letting it waken me up.

"I'm fully awake now, and ready to function, thank you Frankie."

I look up at him and smile, he has a goofy grin on his face as well.

"Anything for you, m'lady." He bowed, and tipped a imaginary hat off his head. I snickered, thanking him again, and putting on a exaggerated high voice.

"What a gentleman!"

"You need to get ready, I saw your calendar. You have a class today at 10:30 AM."

Shit. I do?

"What time is it now?"

"Ten, hurry up, I'll drive you to your campus."

 I thanked him for what seemed like the millionth time this morning. I rushed to my bedroom, undressing myself from my previous clothes and hurrying to pull on a faded grey shirt and random pair of denim skinnies. I ignore my reflection, not wanting to see my bruises and past that lye with them. Once I'm dressed, I head to my bathroom, running a comb through my tangled, greasy locks. If I had more time and showered quick, I'd wash my hair. But for right now, dry shampoo would have to work.

As I'm turning around to exit and tell Frank I'm ready, Bert blocks the door.

"Where are you heading? Why is he here?!"

"I'm going to college...finishing my last year...something you could've had done if you never fucking ruined your life!"

Great, now I'm yelling at a hallucination.

"Gee?" Frank calls out.

Fuck. He heard me, he'll think I'm crazy. Oh no.

"Yea?"

"Are you talking to someone? I heard someone or something yelling."

 Luckily, I have my phone on me. I can fib and say I was watching a video. Before I can, Bert is yelling a response.

"Oh shut the fuck up and get out! He doesn't need you!"

 I panic for a few seconds, before realizing that Frank doesn't know Bert, and Bert isn't real. Frank didn't hear my hallucinations response.

"I'm sorry! I just watched a short video, I'm almost done."

Frank doesn't respond, but I figure he believes me.

 Once I look presentable, I go back into the living room, making sure to grab my scuffed up white converse on the way. I sit down on my stool, yanking and sloppily tying my shoes on, then I look around, trying to find my bag. I don't see it anywhere. Fuck, now I'm panicking. Where's my damn bag?  
  
"Looking for this?"

 I look up at Frank, and that little shit it holding my striped and pinned bag with papers wanting to fly out of it.

"You asshole!" I quickly reach out and snag it from him, peaking in to make sure my supplies and projects are secure.

"You should've seen your face!" He's squealing with laughter, holding him tummy and he wheezed.

 I stuck my tongue out of him, pulling my bag over my shoulder and sitting up, straightening my shirt and flexing my legs.

"Ok, I'm ready."

"Let's go, Madam." Frank spoke, as he opened the door for me, I walked through it and then looked behind me, spotting Bert glaring at Frank and I. When Frank starts to shut the door, I wave goodbye to him. I won't miss him, and he better not come to my school.

 Frank and I listened to Sex Pistols on the way to my college. We sang out loud together and laughed throughout the short distance. When we finally came to my campus, Frank got out and opened the passenger door for me.

"Madam."

 I smiled, quickly pulling him into a hug that I planned to be short and sweet but Frank held on longer. And when he slowly pulled away, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Have a good day Gee. Call me if you need picked up,"  
  
 Then he turned away and got back into his car, waving goodbye as he left, and I could feel was butterflies.


	5. And you may ask yourself Well, How Did I Get Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
>  
> 
> that's a lie  
> (why do ppl not notice this fic :( it's my baby :( I want feedback negative or positive!)

 

 I truly enjoyed my 10:30 class, thank God my angel sent from above, Frank, reminded me that I had it. The class was one where we had a model, commonly nude, come in and us students got 20 minutes max with them, in that time we got to pose them, take photographs of their poses for our drawing reference, and then let them be free to the next student.

 The models name was Maria, she had a slim yet short body, porcelain skin complexion lacking pinks or yellows, flecked with freckles, curious eyes paired with long pitch black lashes, naturally thin tope colored eyebrows, a nose resembling a ski slope, full peachy lips, dusty blonde hair which stopped at her narrow shoulders, pert breasts with perky nipples, elongated arms with small hands complimented with matte pink nails shaped like a claw, a flat stomach, small hips, she had a garden for pubes, a thigh gap you could park a car in along with stubby legs, and for a little girl she had monstrous feet with blue toenails. She was beautiful, she seemed so pure and innocent.

 When I got ahold of her, I made her pose on a red leather sofa, laying on her side with her eyes closed, as if in a peaceful rest. I shot only 4 photographs, one of her full body and the 3 were different sections, so I could see her every detail. She offered me a hug before she left to go to the next student and I hesitantly applied. When she left, I instantly got onto drawing her. I sketched her figure first, then added her major and little, maybe almost irrelevant, details, getting lost in the drawing, not stopping until my teacher yelled for us to halt and gather for discussion.

 We all had to pin up our drawings rather it be in progress or completed. Mine was basically done, I may have missed a few details. My drawing was special, I was the only one to have Maria lye down, others had her standing or sitting on the boring chair most models have to sit in. My teacher along with few students congratulated me for having such creativity when compared to others, seeing that I also drew the background which others had just focused on Maria's form. I left that class feeling happy and proud of myself.  
  
 Campus was wild, you'd think the gossip and drama would end once everyone graduates high school and their hormones calmed down but that's not entirely the case. I just got out of my class, feeling on top of the world, only to see police and interviewers were standing around, students were whispering and watching, and Randall Aquino stood in the middle of it all.  
 I knew Randall fairly well, he has always been well known around campus, but I wasn't really one of the ones who knew him better then the rest, even though we had bunked together for a few months after Bert died and I couldn't afford to live in his apartment. So, I had no where to live, Randall was a angel and let me stay in his dorm until I could afford to find somewhere to live. Honestly, he acted kind of insane, I think he's bipolar. He can be so mischievous and he has so many twisted plans that actually work. He's a little weird but that just benefits him in the artistic sense. Also, don't worry, we didn't do anything sexual. Randall is a rarity, being a male artist who isn't a tad gay. Not even a smudge, he's straight....supposedly.

 Investigators and police were here because rumors went around that Randall had been stealing artwork from others. I knew this wasn't true, though I hadn't been with Randall in a while, I have watched him slave and paint all night straight. He's very passionate with his work, and I know his style, I can tell it's his work, he's not stealing or copying anyone. Unless he had a major personality flip up.  
I was tempted to jump in and defend him from the snoopy police. Was there even any valid proof? Or did some jealous student just cause a big lie and shove it into the polices faces? I'm going with the latter.  
  
 I strolled over to where Randall stood, being suffocated with prying questions and judging gazes. His auburn eyes locked with mine and he smiled, I waved to him quickly.

 "What you smilin' at, Aquino? This some kinda joke?" The golden skinned cop snarled, turning his nose up.

Randall rolled his eyes,

 "No Deputy Pine, just a friend that's behind you."

 The hefty, large and thick armed, bronze cop turned around, giving me the most invasive stare I've ever witnessed, Bert could never beat that.  
  
 "Hi." My voice was soft, but surely someone apart of the law enforcement wouldn't hurt me, a citizen, right?

 "You are? Guessing that you know Mr.Aquino?"

 "Gerard, but please call me Gee. And yes, he's a friend, and I can guarantee you that he did not plagiarize anyone of the matter."

The cop, which I'm guessing goes by Dep. Pine, raised a brow.

 "I'm sorry to inform you but, your opinion is invalid as of now. Though I can promise you that Mr.Aquino will be out of this mess soon. Most of my team and I don't believe that Aquino stole anyone's work. Nor should he! Boys got talent!" Dep. Pine boomed, joyfully placing a hand on Randall's shoulder, smiling.

 I was glad that he loosened up, I was scared of Pine at first, I mean holy shit not only are police intimidating by nature but this dude is 10x scarier, he's bulky and is most likely to be ripped under that tucked in navy shirt and grey work pants.

 Dep. Pine turned on his heel, heading towards the multiple other policemen and investigators-interviewers, leaving Randall and I somewhat alone on campus. He looked stressed out, nervous, and disheveled, his red plaid shirt wrinkled and his pants sagging a tad. His tan skin was covered in an sheer layer of sweat, some gathering at his brow, and he panted lightly past his full lips as he combed a hand through his dark brown mane before speaking,

 "I haven't seen you in a while Gee."

I nodded, agreeing.

 "Today's fucking wild dude! Brandon fuckin' got ahold of the pigs and stated that I was using Wendell Brooks's art and calling it mine!"

Randall shook his head, bringing his hand up to his forehead, rubbing softly. He must've had a raging headache.

 "Can't fucking trust no one or tell them your little secrets, no matter how close they seem. I knew that of course, it's New Jersey! But holy shit you'd think that some snotty art students would be more trustworthy compared to the rest of Jersey."

Why is he so defensive if he didn't actually steal the art? What secrets did Brandon know?  
  
 "Randall?"

He puffed, moving his hand and glaring at me as if he's thinking deeply, and then a mischievous smirk placed upon his face.

 "Gee? You're good at keeping secrets right?"

 I nodded, I'm one of the most quiet people in NJ probably. Also, I don't quite know how to say no.

 Randall kept smirking, before yanking my arm and tugging me by my sleeve into the school, dragging us to a vacant hallway and then putting us against a white bricked wall.  
  
 I was internally freaking out, what did he want?

 "Listen G, I know you heavily believe I'm innocent and the victim. But I'm really not."  
  
So he's a dirty little stealer! A liar!

 I open my mouth to speak, but Randall is quick to cover it with his, should I mention rather sweaty, hand.

 "Listen, listen, listen, Gee. I'm lacking artistic ability now a days ya' know? I'm a little fucked right now...and I got Angelia pregnant...Well we're trying to snag a doctor who does cheap abortions but anyways, I'm in bad fuckin' shape Gee. Surely you've been in a horrid place before. You should know how I feel, rather it be on a small scale or a larger one or a complete different scale. I was just looking up artists based in New Jersey who specialized in somewhat-modern art, like I do, and found Wendall and fuck his art is similar to mine but so much more sophisticated and I just had to steal his. I couldn't pass a A+ up. I planned to only do it once, but I got out of hand. Holy fuck he got me so many good grades I can't believe it was so easy to get away with, I'm such a amazing lia-"

I cut him off by sticking my tongue out, licking his palm covering my mouth, I wanted to speak. He instantly pulls back, shrieking slightly, before his hand meets my cheek, colliding with a loud smack.

 I shout, squealing as I slide to the floor, rolling into a ball and mewling, his smack ultimately reminding me of Bert's. I know I'm overreacting over his hit, but I can't help myself.

_"Why the fuck did you fucking do that Gerard! Are you a fucking idiot! This could ruin us, and get your little ass yanked out of that little pretentious college."_

_"You're such a cunt, lacing our leftovers and selling them to whoever is in need of a dose? Jesus Christ I know you wanna kill yourself but now others?"_

_I couldn't stop sobbing, pleading that I'm sorry and I didn't fully mean to lace the drugs. I was having a full blown panic attack._

_"Sorry doesn't cut it pretty boy, you're such a delinquent."_

_He murmured 'fucking idiot' under his breath, before launching himself on me, his first attack being a loud smack to my right cheek._

"Gerard!" Randall yelled, pulling me back up onto my feet, giving me little to no time to balance myself before grabbing my face between his hands and forcing me to have eye contact.

 I shivered at my full name, starring into his eyes which were full of anger, as if they were aflame, his hair was also standing up at every end, and his pupils were blown. I think he's on something.

 "You just caused a scene, come on now, we'll go to my room, calm you down a little... and then I'll let you go. Don't want you to run your mouth."

 I wanted to say no, but my vocal cords weren't allowing me, and my brain was screaming at me that Bert wouldn't approve of me saying no.

So I nodded.

-

 Randall led us to his dorm, the same one he's had for about 4 years now, same one I bunked in. He fumbled with the knob until the door flew open, my nostrils instantly noticed the aura of marijuana and possibly even worse.

I shivered slightly, walking into his dorm with him lingering behind me.

 "Ya know Gee, I'm kinda sorry for hitting you."

 Hmm..wow. So thoughtful of you, Randall.

I just shrug, not wanting to communicate with him.

 "Sit, please sit Gee, relax, loosen up. Come on now." He shooed me towards the brown couch, as he strolled to his bedroom to 'catch something real quick'.

 To avoid him shouting at me, I sat down on the couch. I didn't like it here. I didn't like this Randall, I mean he was kind of insane when I stayed with him but he defiantly wasn't doing drugs or being a ass back then. The main reason why I didn't like it here was because, this all reminds me of Bert. The smell, Randall's attitude, the atmosphere of it all, including the fucking raggedy couch.

 All I hoped for was for Randall to not offer me drugs, because I wouldn't be able to say no, I can tell he'll be just as controlling as Bert.

 Randall strolled back into the room, I could hear his foot steps but I refused to look at him. He slid next to me on the couch, placing a hand on my thigh and rubbing softly.

 "You're so tense." he murmured.

 "Can you really blame me?"

 "Don't get a fucking attitude,"

Don't think of Bert. Don't think of Bert.

 "Ya know, I can help you loosen up." He squeezed my thigh as he finished his statement, then reaching beside him and grabbing ahold of a bottle.

 My eyes widened, and my mouth seemed to water. It's fucking xanax. I haven't touched xanax in over 2 years.

 Randall smirked, twisting the cap open, throwing the cap to the side, and then placing the rim under my nose. I knew that subtle smell by heart. I whimpered, jerking my head to the side.

 Randall growled at this, flinging himself onto my lap and holding my face still in one of his hands while the other held the bottle.

 "Come on Gee, just take a few. I know you have a little past with this. I know you remember the bliss it brings..."

 His gaze was consuming me, and I was going weak. He was just like Bert. I whimpered again and shivered, squeezing my eyes shut as Randall stroked my hair softly. Everything about him was similar to Bert, besides his physical appearance that is.

 He shoved his grimy hand into the pill bottle, picking out less then a handful. He then lifted his hand up, holding a pair of pills, in between his two fingers, up to my lips, trying to make me budge.

 "You'll feel better quick,"

 I groan in defeat, not having the energy or possessiveness to tell him no or fight back. I can never fight back to anyone. I hesitantly opened my mouth, letting him place the pills on my tongue as my eyes watered. He continued to rub my greasy mane as I swallowed the pills along with two years.

Two years of being clean down the drain.

 Randall smiled widely, leaping off me and ruffling my hair, griping my thigh one last time before he walked away, into the kitchen and leaving me alone on his couch. I curl into a ball, resting, letting the dull pleasure the miniature pill can bring, fade over me. Sooner or later I find myself sobbing quietly, thinking about Bert and how Randall is so similar to him. I do not want to be a drug addict again. I will not let Randall drag me back to hell. I have Frank now, Frank can be my angel. Frank makes me so happy, but I continue to cry, knowing he'd be disappointed if he knew about this relapse. I sob harder, but I try harder then I ever would in high school PE class to stifle my whimpers and croaks.

Why did I allow _this_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( 
> 
> that wasn't a lie


	6. In Which Frank is a Hippy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bloop I am back hello my few readers it is late and I am tired and this isn't throughly edited and Gerard eats a flower

I ended up passing out on Randall's couch that night. I woke up feeling stiff, because frankly his sofa is like a damn boulder with a scratchy carpet resting over it. I stretched my limbs, cracking at every joint and mewling at the sensation. At first, I didn't entirely realize where I was at, not until I sat up, groaning at the soreness in my back. I took in my surroundings and sighed, flopping back onto the sofa, starring up at the ceiling for a moment, before finally gaining the energy to stand up and stretch one more time. I'm still dressed in my clothes from the day before, that being my casual skinnies and faded shirt, but my jacket and bag was missing and my phone wasn't in my pocket. I sat back down onto the lousy excuse of a sofa, patting and looking for my phone, before finally spotting it laying on the carpeted floor. I immediately unlock it, checking the time, it was 7:47 AM, and had missed messages. Those being from Frank, professors, and Joey, a decently close friend of mine.

I was worried of opening Franks messages. I know he easily gets worried, something happened to him before, but I just don't know what. But I can't whine about that, he doesn't know my past either. I'll tell him someday.  
I tap his contact, loading our messages.

12PM  
**From** : Frankie Boy  
_I hope your 10:30 glass was great, better have been learning some shit. and have fun of course, want me to pick you up later?_

2:45 PM  
**From** : Frankie Boy  
_Geeeeeeeee_

6:20 PM  
**From** : Frankie Boy  
_I'm guessing you're busy, I'll leave you alone I don't wanna seem cringe worthy contact me later :) x I can't wait to see you tomorrow_

8PM  
**From** : Joey(Not Fatone)  
_You got any milk I can borrow?_

9PM  
**From** : Joey(Not Fatone)  
_You could've just messaged 'no' gee, damn. Now I have to go to the gas station and buy cheap milk :( walmarts too far. u ass._

I chuckle at Joey, and holy fuck, it's Friday, I'm seeing Frank's band live today. That's like a date right? I promise myself to contact Frank once I get out of here. Should I tell him about Randall? My relapse?

I shake my head in confusion, before noticing my black jacket and bag hanging on Randall's coat hanger.

"Hopefully he didn't go through my shit." I murmur to myself as I grab both of them, moving to shove my phone down my jackets pocket only to be stopped by a large item already pocketed. I frown slightly, pulling the material outward to see what was hiding, only to frown harder once I realized it was the Xanax bottle with a sticky note saying _'keep it, u know u want to ;)'_ in thick scraggly scrawl. I shivered, pulling the pockets material back, somewhat covering the bottle. For some reason, I keep them in my pocket, and place my phone in my other jacket pocket, letting my bag rest on a shoulder, before opening Randall's door, leaving the room and hoping to never see him again.

I hurriedly look through my bag, first noticing how everything is still in place and nothing's lost, then snagging my Chlorpromazine pills, taking two, since I didn't take any last evening. I then shove them back into my scuffed up bag, pulling my phone from my pocket, instantly dialing Frank, hoping he's up, as I leave the building. Holy shit is it freezing today, it's almost September but it's like the damn North Pole up in here. I'm snapped out of my thoughts as the dialing stops and Frank's groggy voice comes through the speaker.

"Hello?" He sounds so tired, his voice rough, I might've waken him.

"Frankie..." I whisper into the speaker.

"Gee? You ok? You never got ahold of me. I will admit I got worried again."  
he chuckles slightly before continuing,  
"I hope this is another nap situation."

I sigh, not knowing if I'll tell him.

"Well, it's a little complicated. I'll tell you later? But right now if you have energy, Frankie, can you come pick me up at campus? I'm cold and I don't wanna walk." I emphasize my last point by adding a toddler-like whine as I snuggle deeper into my cotton jacket.

"Oh don't whine, I'll be there as soon at possible, same place as last time?"

"Yes, same place. Please come soon, I'm freezing and I don't wanna go stand awkwardly in the building."

"I'll be there soon gee, pullin' some jeans on, and a-" the speaker muffles,  
"-sweater,"

I giggle, and I do find myself imagining Frank dressing. He must sleep in just boxers. Or maybe briefs?

I swear I heard him say bye to something, _someone_. I thought he lived alone.  
"Ok, I'm dressed, heading to the car, getting into the car, turning on the car,"  
I could hear the engine roar to life, and the slight click of him pulling his stick shift back.

"Driving the car."

I gasp, "Frankie don't call and drive!"

"It's 'don't text and drive' Gee,"

"They both cause crashes!"

"Gee, calm down, you're on speaker, I'm not holding my phone. Both hands on the wheel."

I could hear every sound his car made as he drove down to campus.

"Frankie?"

He 'hm'ed in response.

"Turn the radio on for me? I'm bored standing here, the only thing I hear is angry wind."

"Of course, hey, wanna hear a new song the band and I just recorded? No ones heard it besides us and we're gonna play it for the first time tonight. I want your opinion first, don't wanna play a song you don't like while you're watching it all go down."

"Oh Frankie I'll love it no matter what. You guys have a nice tune, come on, play the song, lemme hear."

Frank didn't respond, I could hear him rummaging through his center piece, hopefully keeping a eye on the road and a hand on the wheel. He made a little yip, and I could hear him shuffling about, I thought he almost crashed but then I heard his CD cartridge open, and then a steady beat of drums starting to play.

"It's called Death of the Lionheart, sick right?"

I scoffed, _sick_.

"Totally, Frank."

The both of us kept silent as I listened to the bands track. Their songs are all so....emotional? horror-themed? I can't pin point it, it's unique but the lyrics all seem depressing. The song is talking about silence, ghosts, breaking hearts, wiping out. I zone out listening to it and try to comprehend any meaning, but I've never been good at deciphering items. I don't even notice Frank pulling up and obnoxiously honking his horn, startling me and causing me to drop my phone onto the sidewalk covered in chalk. Franks childish laughter ringed through the air and the mic on my phone.  
  
"Did I startle ya' Gee?" He yelled at me, still chuckling and I could see his breathing because of how chilling it was outside.

I pulled my jackets hood off of my head, leaning my head up and scowling at him, only in a playful mood before swiftly leaning down to pick up my luckily not cracked phone, then quickly walking over to his car. I pulled on the handle, only to find it locked.

"Frank!" I whined in a nasally voice.

He was still smiling, I could see his features through the window he was currently rolling down.

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

"And what?"

I whined again, pouting my lips and stomping my left foot.

"Please and thank you."

"....And?" He still had the largest grin ever, little bitch.

"With a cherry on top?"

He nodded, popping the lock, and I instantly pulled open the door, climbing in before slamming it shut again, instantly feeling his vehicle's heat, moaning at the sensation like I was being defrosted. I turned and gave Frank a small grin, noticing his bed head, Iron Maiden jumper, and black jeans. He just kept smiling me, before pulling his stick shift backwards, ready to start driving again.

"Oh, and by the way Frank, that was a magic sentence, not a word."

-

Frank and I only made small talk, because we quickly ended up in front of my apartment complex. I started to get out the car before having a idea.

"Hey Frank?"

He hummed as a response.

"Could you stay here and wait for me? I'll just hurry up and get new clothes on along with anything else I need and then I'll come back. It'll only be a while and we can hang out before going to the joint."

"Sounds great. We can get breakfast, yeah? Maybe you can spare some details about last night? You seem somewhat stiff."

I furrowed my brows, shrugging my shoulders.

"Maybe. I'll be back in atleast 10 minutes, no more."

-

I quickly tugged off my clothes once I entered my apartment, they reeked of sweat driven by anxiety. Fuck, yesterday I took Xanax. Just a slip up. Just a slip up.

I eyed the bottle laying horizontally on the floor. Did I bend over to pick it up? Maybe. Did I take several? Maybe.

Not a slip up.

I sigh, pulling on a random pair of faded black skinnies that make my bum look A+, paired with a grey tank that showed my sides off. I was skinnier lately. I'm still a whale though.  
Before I left the apartment, I pulled on my scruffed up combat boots and I pocketed a few pills, just incase. I might just have a drink tonight too, I'm trying to let myself have a few recreational drinks. I sighed again, grabbing a random Slipknot jacket, leaving and locking my apartment door, before heading outside again. I jogged up to Frank's car again, letting myself in the passenger seat.

"Long time no see."

-

Frank and I found our selfs seated in a tiny local cafe, sitting at a quite comfy booth, sitting across each other.

"You know, why didn't we go to IHOP? Don't you get a discount?"

Frank shook his head no.

"Nah, and foods not that good, this place is family owned, IHOP is a chain, gross. I plan to quit sooner or later."

I just shrugged. I thought their food was okay.

We both had a coffee, but our tastes were polar opposites. Mine was caramel and infused with diabetic sugar, his was black, plain black!

"You're so gross Frank." I gagged, putting a single finger in my mouth to add to the effect.

"Oh shut up, this is real coffee, not a sugary beverage." he scoffed, jerking his head downward, gesturing to my coffee cup.

I was going to say something back but I realized a perky female waitress, I assume, strolling to our table.

"Same size as you Frankie..." I leaned over the table, whispering to him quick before sitting up straight again as she arrived. He just gaped at me.

"Good morning! Chilly day ain't it? God, I had to walk here in the dark at 4 AM, it was freezing. Screw Autumn, man."

I chuckled at her, looking up at her and smiling, taking in her appearance, heavily lined eyes, thin eyebrows, stringy thin black hair, a thin upper red lip and a pouty lower, a gold nostril piercing, and a tattoo sleeve.

"My names Alicia, and I'll be your waitress here at Darby's. What can I get you boys?" My ears perked up at the mention of her name.

My brothers girlfriend's name is Alicia. Are they even still together? I never even met her, but he told me about her. I start to frown, remembering my brother I haven't seen in a few years. Frank noticed my frown and raised a brow in curiosity, then turning his attention to Alicia, giving her his order.

"Uh...I'll have the farmer's special. No sausage links or bacon. Can I get your faux chicken patty instead? Great. Those are bomb. I also want to substitute my eggs for red potatoes. Wheat toast instead of white too. Sorry, I'm picky."

Alicia chuckled,  
"Don't worry, I've heard more complex honey." She quickly jotted down his order, before turning her attention to me.

"And for you?"

"Oh, I'll just have your regular pancake dish with scrambled eggs on the side."

"Alright...got that. Our pancakes are to die for, so fluffy. You'll love it."

I smiled as she began to walk away, only making a few steps before turning around to face us again.

"What are your names if I may ask? I like being on a name basis with customers, creates a warming atmosphere."

"I'm Gerard, please call me Gee, and this is Frank."

Her eyes widened a tad at hearing my name, before quickly turning her slightly surprised expression into a gentle caring one as she walked back to the kitchen. Has Mikey told her about me? Surely there aren't many Gerard's in New Jersey.

"Do you know her?" Frank asked.

"No, well, I don't think, um, it's complicated."

"Tell me."

I shrugged, "I think she might be my brothers girlfriend. But, um, I haven't seen my brother in a few years. Can we leave it there? I'll tell you more someday."

He nodded, dropping the subject and sipping his plain coffee again.

"What happened yesterday? I'm sorry I'm digging in so much."

"It's okay. Yesterday was a mess...I um.. I kinda um, relapsed?" I whispered the last part.

"You what, Gee?" his face starting to drop.

"I relapsed. I-i used to be addicted to xans years ago and I had some yesterday after years of not touching them. Can we leave it there? I don't wanna talk about it in a cafe."

Frank frowned, reaching his hand over and giving mine a soft squeeze.

"Okay. Hopefully their fluffy as a pillow pancakes will brighten you up! Foods amazing."

I giggled, agreeing with him.

-

Frank and I left the cafe around 9:30. I kept yawning the whole car ride, not even knowing where he was taking me. May I remind you I've only know him for less then a week, he could be taking me somewhere to murder me. But I know he wouldn't do that, I feel like best friends already.

I ended up passing out in Frank's passenger seat, hey, for a pretty cheap vehicle those seats were comfy as fuck. I got woken up by a tickling sensation, slowly opening my eyes to find Frank hovered over me, starting to tickle me recklessly as I try to catch my breath.

"Frankie!" I kept squirming and morbidly laughing trying to get him off.

"Wake up!"

"I am up!"

Frank was laughing hard as well, he finally stopped tickling my sides as he sat back down in the drivers seat.

"I got you so good,"

"Shut,"  
  
I wheezed.

"Up."

Frank climbed out of the car and came over to my side, unlocking my door and guiding me out.

"Where are we?" I genuinely didn't know.

"One of my favorite places ever, the park, the river. Never been here?"

I shook my head no, I never have. We were in a secluded section, a light blue almost turquoise river flowing a few feet in front of us, creating ripples when the water travels over rocks and colorful autumn themed trees scattered around, covering up the colorful sky view. A picnic bench sat near by, along with a marbled bird bath and flower bushes. I could also spy animals, nothing barbaric or anything. Butterflies fluttered among the river, bees swarmed the flower bushes, bunnies rested near trees as squirrels scrambled up them, and I'm pretty sure elk lingered around too.

"It's beautiful."

"I know, I always came here when I was younger, I still do now. Sit on the bench, connect with nature, everyone needs to be a little hippy sometimes."

He had a point.

"I know a lot about this place, would you like a lesson?"

I nodded, zipping up my jacket as  
gusty, chilly wind flew by.

Frank walked up to the flower bushes, not bothering the bees or other bugs that feed off the plant life.

"These are honeysuckles, you know that right?"

I shook my head no.

"They're edible and taste like honey, hence the name. The berries are poisonous though." He spoke softly as he gently took off one of the flowers.

"How do you know this?"

"My mother was a gardener, we had a garden at home. It wasn't that fancy though, my mother didn't like the flashy set ups or the bright spring flowers, and she mostly grew honeysuckle, dahlias and fruits. My father wanted me to appreciate nature more, he knew I'd appreciate something more livid so he brought me here one day, to show me the natural beauty, all the vibrant flowers, the colorful trees my mother doesn't grow, and the bright river. We use to come here almost daily. My favorite part was that bat orchids used to grow here, they were a dark orchid flower that had 'whiskers', they sadly don't grow here anymore ever since New Jersey's humidity got lower."

"Those sound rad, you'll have to show me a picture later."

Frank handed a honeysuckle to me,

"Try it. Suck on it a little, a little nibble nibble."

I was hesitant, but I placed the flower to my lips, sucking softly. A small amount of a somewhat sticky substance entered my mouth, it was sweet and tasted like a form of honey like Frank said.

"I didn't expect that."

"Not bad right?"

I nodded.

Frank and I sat at the bench table together, him telling me about his stories he's had here and how it made him and his father connect so much. He seemed to get emotional when talking about his father. I questioned if he had passed away, in my head of course. As Frank was chatting away, but I was eyeballing a frog lurking by the river.

"Lookin' at the toad?"

"Toad? Frank that's a damn frog."

He scoffed, getting up and going up to the river, gathering the amphibian in his palm, and then coming back over to me.

"Look, notice it's warts. It's a toad. He's stout and not slimy like frogs are."

I groaned,

"You're too smart for me."

"Don't say that Gee, you're the one enrolled in college."

I smiled, watching him place the fro-, _toad_ , back onto the ground.

"Shall we get going? It's about.."  
he looked down at his watch I didn't even know he had on.

"11, we can go to joint extra early, hang with the band, set up, be extra prepped."

"Yeah, sure. I get to meet the band holy shit I'm pumped."

Frank just giggled.

-

Frank and I arrived at the joint around 12, which was a large bar-club area, but it wasn't your typical rundown bar filled with pool tables and rednecks. Frank was telling me about how he hoped someday to play at a actually legit venue, not a bar, but Pencey Prep just weren't big enough yet, only being signed to Eyeball, Frank wants Warner Bros to sign his band. I feel like he'll make it, so does he, he tells me about why he got his neck tattoo of a scorpion, not only because he's a Scorpio but also because he wanted it so he could never get a stable job, forcing him to be successful with music or else.

Frank and I sat around until around one, drinking sodas and chit chatting about his band and how he hopes the set to be. He also warns me that he gets wild on stage, which I don't find shocking, he seems like someone fit for the stage.

"Ayo Frankie!" A loud voice booms, coming from the entrance door of the bar.

"Neil! Are the rest of the guys with you too?"

The man, I'm amusing Neil, yelled back a scraggly 'ya', walking in, holding two guitars that covered his face.

"Lead guitarist," Frank told me.

Another man, dragging in a keyboard walked through the door, he had long brown hair and a beard that's growing in.

"Shaun, keyboard."

I hear his keyboard quite noticeably in their songs.

Following Shaun came several others, the first two being younger then the others, one holding parts to a drum and the other holding a bass.

"Tim, drummer, John, bass. The others are just bar workers I'm guessing, carrying mics and the cords, you know?"

"Why didn't you have to bring jack shit in?"

"Because I'm special."

"Just because you're a vocalist doesn't mean you're all that Frankie."

He did a mocking pout.

"You mean it?"

I chuckled, slapping his shoulder,

"Shush, you know I'm joking. Come on, introduce me to the band. Let's help put shit together. Y'all gonna do a sound check?" I asked

He nodded, "Yes we'll do a quick warm up. It's basically mandator-"

He got caught off by a female about his height with short black hair with blonde highlights colliding into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist and snuggling her head in his neck.

"Frankie you left me so early this morning, I didn't even get to say bye back."

What? Who is this woman? Is this Frank's sister? No, sisters don't act like this surely. Is she Frank's girlfriend? My heart strings pulled a little at the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who
> 
> also yay! no Bert in this chapter!


	7. A Mess. Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter then the rest, but I had to pop something out. I have writers block :/ but since I haven't posted it so long I luckily found this bad boy for ch8 in my notes and I made it better and here it is!  
> Also-if anyone would like to make me a cover for this story, I'd greatly appreciate it! I want to put this on wattpad but I'm not the best at designs! Contact me on Twitter > ravioiiformuoli :)

My stomach did back flips as I stared at the woman squeezing Frank to death. His facial expression remained neutral and natural, showing zero signs of joy or annoyance, or even gloominess.

My heart started to shatter as the mysterious woman shifted her face out of his neck and planted a gloppy smooch of a kiss on his cheek.

Well, my chances went out of the roof. Frank Iero has a damn girlfriend. Meaning he's probably heterosexual. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"I'm sorry Jams, I was in a rush this morning."

So I wasn't wrong, I did in fact hear him tell someone goodbye over the phone earlier today.

Also, what did he call her? Jams? Like the stuff you put on toasted bread? Wheat or white?

"It's ok Frankie, I was only a tad upset over it, more upset over the fact that I had to make the bed this morning, not you." She said, finally unwrapping her arms from Frank's waist, frowning playfully. As she did so, she finally noticed that she and Frank weren't alone.

"Oh, hello. You are? Frank, who is this?"

She was talking about me, no one else was around us, everyone else was setting up shop. Girl, don't act like I'm not here. Ask me, not him.

"Oh, um...." Frank started to speak but I cut him off.

"I'm Gerard." I put on a fake smile, almost meeting my ears, and reached my hand out to hers, gesturing for a handshake.

She raised a eyebrow, somewhat hesitantly reaching her own hand out to mine, softly embracing mine.

"Jamia." She states firmly, shaking my hand once before, shall I mention some what harshly, yanking back.

What a bitch. Frank's dating this?  
I tried extremely hard to not let my disgust show.

"Frankie, I'm going to go help set up. I'll see you soon, before you preform!" she said, blowing a kiss to Frank before strutting away.

"Who is she?" I instantly questioned as Jamia was out of sight. If I wasn't going to ask about her sooner or later, my tongue would've swallowed itself. And then I'd be dead. This doesn't make sense.

"Jamia."

"No shit Sherlock,"

Frank let out a soft chuckle,  
"Well, she's uh, my girlfriend. I didn't think she'd arrive tonight."

Once again, I tried to net let my disgust and disappointment show, biting my tongue and grinding my teeth.

"You never told me you were with someone."

"It never came up. Is that a issue Gee?"

"No, never. If you're happy, that's all that matters. Not like we're a thing or anything."

Why'd I say that?

Frank visually cringed, but so on nodded in agreement.

That didn't help my churning stomach.

"Do you have a special someone?" Frank interrogated.

I scoffed,  
"No. I had a boy-" I coughed, "partner, before. It, um, wasn't the best. T-they didn't treat me too well. Can we move on from this subject?"

Frank frowned, scratching his neck.

"I'm sorry for asking, you don't have to say anything unless you want to, Gee."

Finally someone says that. I always get pressed on when I bring up Bert.

-

I didn't help set up for the performance like I thought I would've.

I had a horrid migraine, sitting down at one of the bar's wooden tables the majority of the time, waiting for my headache to pass.

My thoughts kept swimming to Frank. Frank and Jamia. Jrank? Framia? Jank? Fams? Whatever you call it, it's cancer.

I'm jealous of Jamia.

My mind also rolls to moments Frank and I had. Though we've only known each other for not even a week, we were pretty touchy. Nothing sexual of course, not even close to being first base material really. I would've gone into spicy details if we went that far.

Frank and I have cuddled together. He's even kissed me, not on my lips unfortunately, but sweetly on my forehead.

_'I smiled, quickly pulling him into a hug that I planned to be short and sweet but Frank held on longer. And when he slowly pulled away, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead._

_"Have a good day Gee. Call me if you need picked up,"_  
  
Then he turned away and got back into his car, waving goodbye as he left, and all I could feel was butterflies.'

Friends don't do that. Especially when one half of the friendship is dating someone else.

Was Jamia and Frank's relationship truly that great? Does Frank by any chance like me?

My thoughts came to a halt as Frank slid into the seat across from me.

"Hey."

"Hi. All set up?"

He nodded, gnawing on his lower lip. Maybe he was nervous, his stomach churning like butter or maybe fluttering with exotic butterflies.

"Time for soundcheck yet?"

He nodded once again,

"Yeah, it actually is, but the case is that, uh, I have to, uh, shit, leave."

What?!

My eyebrows rose, I didn't even have to voice and question why, my expression told all.

"I'm sorry, honestly. It's a emergency. My father needs me, it's important, I can't explai-fuck. I have to go, now."

My brain felt mushed, my curiosity becoming powerful, but I didn't dare to invade into his privacy.

"Oh, whatever the issue be, I hope he's well."

"Yeah, yeah. He's fine, he just...needs my help. I have to go, bye Gee. The show must go on!"

He scrambled out of his seat, snatching his car keys out of his pocket and quickly pressing digits on his phone, laying it on his shoulder and holding it to his ear with his neck. He was most likely calling his father. I could be wrong.

I still didn't understand. What's wrong with his father? Is he in the hospital? Is he terminally ill? Maybe it's mental. Maybe he has Alzheimer's. I don't know.

Thinking of Frank's father made me ponder about my own. I force myself to not let that thought take over, I don't want any form of gloom to possess my body.

Anywho, is the band still going to go on? Surely they will, right? Frank said so, why am I doubting? People will still be interested if Frank's not preforming right? The members know the lyrics and all the chords, they can go apeshit on stage, surely the crowd will be happy. Franks just lead, they can go on without him. The audience won't mind right? Why do I care?

Like they say, the show must go on.

"You could sing." Bert strolls in, fucking walking through the wall.

I groan, I would snap out a sassy response but people are around. They'd pin me as a freak, which I am, but I don't want them to label me as such a offensive thing. I won't allow myself to respond, it'd look like I'm talking to myself. I guess I really am doing just that.  
Bert isn't real. He's a figment of my own imagination, my screwed over mind.

Duh.

But, me singing? Tough luck. I'd probably pass out on stage and curl up like a Rollie Pollie and drown in my own tears.

I won't sing for Pencey Prep.

 

 


	8. Don't Get That Sinkin' Feelin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I haven't updated in forever and I didn't overlook this well

It was weird watching Pencey Prep preform without Frank being apart of it.

Just like I said before, I didn't sing for them. Bet you all thought I would, all people say they won't but they do. But I said I wouldn't and I didn't!

At the near end of the show, Frank came back. I don't know how he found me in the crowd but he did.

"Hey!" he somewhat shouted at me, at first I didn't know it was him, jumping and turning to look at him when he placed his hand on my arm.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm back from seeing my father, wanted to come see you and pick you up duh." He forced a smile.

I nodded, we were basically crammed together like sardines in a can. People were swaying and swinging as the band sang their last song. My back was up against Frank's chest, not to mention my ass was pretty close to his crotch.

"Do you wanna go now?" He shouted in my ear over the music.

I shrugged, turning to look at him again as he pulled us out of the crowd.

Once we were out he quickly smoothed his clothes down and ruffled his messed hair.

"Ready?" I double checked.

"Yeah....yeah, let's go." He murmured, pulling his keys out of his pocket and leading us to the exit.

We both silently entered the car, quiet for half the ride besides Frank's off and on yawning.

"How was the show without me?"

"It was fine, would've been better with you though. Need all the voices you know?"

He nodded in a agreeing fashion. His hands tightening on the wheel, turning somewhat roughly into the entrance to my apartment before parking.

He yawned again, stretching his hands upward allowing his shirt to ride up, letting his tattoos be exposed. Yes I did stare for longer then necessary.

I undid my seat belt, opening up the door before looking back at him.

"Have a good night Frank, go get some rest, you seem tired and stressed."

"Oh god I am...." He murmured, wishing me a goodbye before rubbing his eyes.

I hopped out of the car, shutting my door and waving Frank a enthusiastic wave goodbye, which he returned.

When I made it back to my apartment, I quickly took my meds and then instantly threw myself onto the sofa groaning in to the cushion. My head is throbbing and my ears are ringing. My eyes are as dry as the Sahara desert. I'm as hungry as a motherfucker, but my body is too fucking tired to get up and eat, so I just allow myself to pass out on the couch, even though it was only roughly 9 o'clock

I woke up early, maybe around eight, not because I passed out earlier yesterday, but that I set a alarm. I never mentioned it but I had a doctors appointment today.

Gagging.

I haven't been to the doctors for a while, not since you know when and you know what for. I wasn't completely honest with doctors that time, I will now. I want to know what's wrong with me. I've been researching and asking random medical sites about it. I've started to believe I have psychotic depression, I'm not going to diagnose myself because I've read that many people with the illness have to be hospitalized. I don't want that! And I've read that it can go away, be treated, but fuck I don't understand mental illnesses. I just like to think of myself as a normal person with a little quirk. A quirk that could be fixed. And I like to believe it can. Recently, Bert hasn't been around much. Is that a sign? God I hope so.

After my short breakfast, a granola bar and a cup of coffee, I started to get ready. While I was pulling my jeans off, the pills I pocketed last night fell out. I bent over and scooped them up, staring at the small pills laying in my palm for a while, debating rather I should take them or not. I sighed roughly, and with a shrug I swallowed them all with a tad bit of guilt.

I got ready quick, wearing all black and a beanie to cover my bed head. My anxiety over this appointment kept evolving, my stomach and head are swirling like one of those clocks hypnosis people use. My hands were shaking before I let myself nom on my finger nails.

I was so hyped to go to this appointment, but now I really don't wanna go. I'm surely fine. I'm okay, I don't need a doctor. Plus, do I really wanna talk about my feelings? I'd rather talk to Frank. Oh god I'm starting to ramble.

Before I could even comprehend what I was doing, I was calling the doctors, stuttering into the phone that I wanted to cancel my appointment and I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

Do I regret it? No. I'm fine.

Right after I end the call, I pick up my phone again and call Frank, only to listen to the phone ring and ring until the obnoxious robot phone ladies voice rings out.

"I'm sorry, the person you're trying to call doesn't have a set up voicemail. Please call again later."

I groan, tossing my phone back into the couch. Looks like I'll be resting around the house until I have to go my class that's at 2. Nap time it is.

Or I thought.

As I'm staring to drift into sleep my phone obnoxiously goes off, I groan, rolling over and answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

Frank.

I jump, sliding off the couch and picking up my phone putting it my ear.

"You there?" He asks.

"Yeah, what's up? Up so early?"

"It's only ten. Can I come over?"

Why does he want to come over?

"Uh..sure! I have a class at 2 so..we'll have a few hours."

"Ok..great, I'll be over as soon as possible. Bye Gee, see you soon."  
  
He hung up soon after, and I decided that I need to eat. I strolled into the kitchen, placing a skillet over the stove and heating it. I'm not a cook or anything but I can make decent box pancakes.

As I'm mixing the baking powder mix into the wet ingredients, I heard the rattle of a hand knocking on my door.

"It's unlocked!" I yelled as Frank pushed the door open, coming in holding a bag full with God knows what.

"Hey!" He says, smiling wide.

I murmur a hi back, quickly trying to get my pancakes on the skillet.

"Woah..woah woah. What are you doing?" Frank asks, raising a brow and peeking over my shoulder.

"What?" I some what annoyingly ask.

"Are you making box pancakes?" He asks, picking up the box and turning it over to read the nutrient facts and ingredients.

"Yes, is that bad?"

"Oh gee. Throw that mix out. Let me make you pancakes, it is what I do."

Oh yeah, he does work at Ihop....

"But I don't wanna waste this..."

He didn't say anything, he just rumbled through a cabinet, pulling out plastic wrap and wrapping it around the bowl of generic pancakes, then putting it in the fridge.

"Make them later then, when you're hungry and I'm not around to make you some bomb ass pancakes."

I giggle at him before opening another cabinet, pulling out obvious ingredients and then handing to him.

"Get what else you need."

"Will do!" He says, squinting his eyes in concentration while he rummages for the extra ingredients.

Once he has his ingredients all together, a fresh bowl and other supplies, I half heartedly watch him mix while he explains what he's doing.

While he was adding a dash of some sort of a powder, I don't fucking cook, he looked up at me and his eyes widened.

"Oh hell no."

"What?" What is he freaking out about? Did I do something wrong? Choo choo anxiety train.

"You have stubble! That was not there yesterday! I didn't even think you could grow facial hair...you've been as smooth as a baby's moisturizered butt."

Is he serious?

"Uh...yeah? I'm a dude so...I tried to grow it out before but that was a no go."

"Can I be honest?"

Oh boy.

"Yes." I bit my lip. 

"I don't like it, you look better bare."

"Ugh, I know, I look like a scruffy homeless man." I whined, throwing my hands up to add effect. I agree with him as I scratch my neck.

"I'll shave later."

He murmured a ok as he went back to mixing the batter.

"Go sit on the couch, I'm gonna make you the most bad ass brunch ever!"

-

I don't know how long it's been, but as I was watching tv with my legs propped up on the couch Frank was calling my name telling me 'brunch is served'.  
I pulled myself off the couch, stretching my limbs and scrunching my face up before walking the short stroll to my small kitchen table seated with three cushioned stools.

"What's on the menu tonight Chef Iero?"

"Well..for you we have some buttermilk pancakes, sunny side up eggs, fresh fruit, and toast with jam." He said, placing plates in front of me.

"Frank... This really wasn't necessary I don't want you to spoil m-"

He shushed me before opening his mouth.

"Don't apologize! I enjoyed making it, and you deserve a good meal. Eat up!"

I blushed, picking up my fork and smiling up at him, tearing a piece of pancake off and plopping it into my mouth.

"These really are good." I mumbled, it being barely audible because I had a large chunk of Frank Iero's pancake-not his ass-in my mouth.

"I'm glad you enjoy it!"

I swallowed, "What are you eating?"

"Oh, um just some toast, oatmeal and some fruit."

I frowned.

"But don't worry! It's good!"

"Vegans.." I mumbled

"Saving the earth!" He added.

I rolled my eyes and continued to eat my, delicious I might add, meal, glancing and smiling at Frank every so often through our silent brunch.

 _"He has a girlfriend."_  A voice of who I shall not name reminded me.

I groaned internally.

-

After we were both done eating, I cleaned the dishes like a good person.

Frank was leaning against the wall, just glancing at whatever his eyes and brain noticed. He looked at the calendar and then down at his watch.

"Hey."

"What?" I signed somewhat bothered. 

"You have a class at 2." How sweet, but I already told him that. 

"Yah, I know. I should probably shower I still smell like beer from last night."

"I'm so sorry about leaving last night, I really had to it was a emergency."

"It's okay, I understand. Family matters more then your band."

He nodded, agreeing, picking at his cuticles. 

"Um....speaking of the band." He quietly spoke, still picking and ripping his nails. 

What about the band? Are they breaking up?

He scoffed and then chuckled,  
"I left my job to focus on the band. I want to be permanently involved with the music industry! I want to be signed with big companies, I want to be doing something I _love_."

I blinked, frozen letting no emotion show.

"I support your choice." I blurted out.

He smiled wide, hugging me quick yet enthusiastic .

"Thank you, my parents gave me shit about it saying I'll never make it but I will I swear."

"I think you will too."

I had my doubts but I'd say anything to get him to hug me again, which he did.

Longer then before I might add.

-

Frank and I didn't really do much for the rest of the time before I had to leave for class.

We rested on the couch, my head almost laying in his lap, which was covered by one of my ugly poo poo colored pillows. We watched some shitty indie-horror flick which I don't even remember the name to. Frank and I kept trash talking it the whole way through. You could read the disgust in his eyes. 

Around 1 PM, Frank passed out on the sofa, mouth open but hopefully not drooling, and I decided my dirty ass should shower. My skin and hair felt like a oil slick and my clothes smelt like they were marinated in cheap salty alcohol. Not a cute look. I quickly took a steamy, not sexual you perverts, shower. I quite literally drenched my body in coconut-strawberry body wash and green apple shampoo. Even my washes are feminine. I smell like a fresh fruit cup topped with coconut sorbet, who wouldn't want to smell that heavenly.

My thoughts of how damn good I smell were interrupted as I felt a hand around my waist.

I know what you're thinking:

HOLY SHIT FRANK!!

I did too for a split second but it's just Bert. Yah, him, the one that's not real.

He keeps whispering stuff in my ear but I aggressively squeeze my eyes shut and continue to wash my, quite bubbly, hair and listen to the cascade of water.

Eventually, he goes away from my successful blocking out. By then I'm completely clean and smelling like sorbet, stepping out of the shower and pulling on a fluffy robe. I bent over to pick up my dirty clothes, leaving the miniature apartment bathroom to put the drunk clothes in my washer.

While I was strolling to the washer, Frank was awake. I bumped into Frank, while I was wearing a robe that was a tad short and showed off some leg.

I squeaked a bit, mouth opening and closing in a gasp only to bite down on my cheek. I only calmed down a bit when he giggled and told me to continue walking and that it's fine.

I quickly emptied my clothes into the wash, speed walking to my room and pulling on another dark outfit and fluffing my hair.  
I didn't take too long to put on a moisturizer, take care of your skin while you're young people, apply a thin amount of eyeliner, shave my stubbly facial hair, and put some shoes on. I was done by maybe around 1:30, I didn't know if Frank was taking me to class or if I was walking. I pulled my bag over my shoulder and quietly walked into the living room where Frank was resting. I cleared my throat and coughed slightly to gain his attention.

"Hm?" He murmured.

"Are you taking me or..."

"Oh! Do you want me to?" He asked, sitting up straight. 

"Please? I want to stop at Starbucks but that's a further walk."

He smiled, jumping off the couch and pulling out his keys, and guiding us to my door.

"Let's go!"

-

At Starbucks, I surprisingly didn't order coffee. I ordered this strange raspberry tea-fruit juice hybrid, Frank got his complicated order of a vegan banana caramel something-something-I don't know.

Before I knew it, he was dropping me off at my school, we waved goodbye and he left and I was heading to my class, sipping on my drink.

Today's class was like the other one, nude model, posing, sketches. You know that jazz.

The model was expected at 2:10 pm and we were supposed to start right when they came in. It was roughly 2, and I was stationed next to Avery, this funky, very artistic, person in my class. They're full of self expression, they never shave, they have a bright pink pixie cut, they're missing a front tooth, draws on colorful freckles, identifies as genderqueer and always wears their pride pin on their roughed up denim cut off jacket.

"You think we're gonna get someone with a cock or a pussy today?" They asked me.

I turned and looked at them with a disgusted face, shrugging.

"You know you wish for a cock to come in."

Excuse me?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Gee baby I can smell the gay coming off of you."

I blushed, feeling ghosts bumps on my arms, before shrugging at her again.

"Can we not talk about this here?"

"Mm..ok sweet cakes."

Right after she said this, the model walked in and my heart dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eyes emoji*


	9. Chapter 9

lol this fic is dead rip


End file.
